The Ties That Bind
by OnyxRose13
Summary: As much of a tragedy the war was, she could not bring herself to regret it. After all the war was what had brought him to her. She concluded that Uchiha Itachi was worth all of it.
1. Prolouge:Itachi Awakes

**_I love Itachi's story. I do realize he's a fictional character, but he's quite admirable._**

_**A/N:The following is an excerpt from my story. I decided to use it as a preface of sorts. Please review, the are two objects of writing fiction:1)To express one's self. 2) To entertain an audience. I need the input of readers to achieve both.**_

**_Disclaimer:I do not own Naruto._**

**_Thank you for your time. :)_**

**_-OnyxRose13_**

* * *

_Prologue_

She turned her head to look over at the bed beside her own…and in an instant was awestruck.

She could barely recognize her patient. Looking at him, no one would believe that only yesterday he had been on the verge of wasting away.

His skin was frigidly pale, and seemed to hold a luminosity all it's own. His eyes were no longer cloudy, but stood out cruel, clear crimson rimmed by heavy eyelashes. His hair was the darkest, shiniest brown Sakura had ever seen.

He watched her with a serene intelligence.

And for a wild moment she wondered if he was even human.

His voice seemed to fail him, but he managed to mouth to her "Where am I?"…

"Konoha Hospital" she replied carefully.

This time he was able to force out a raspy whisper "They took in a traitor?"…he lifted an elegant eyebrow...

"They took in a hero", her proclamation was met with silence.

"Itachi, you were dead. You were dead for a month. We brought you back two days ago," she bit her lip.

He had the good grace to smile, but there was no missing the horror in his eyes. He looked for a moment like he wanted to ask but decided against it.

Instead he said, "What put me here?"

"Restoring your life was the easy part. You had a super-aggressive form of tuberculosis. We finally removed all the bacteria a few hours ago."

She could practically watch everything click into place in Itachi's mind as he took in her, his surrounding, assessed the situation.

All in all the process took about three seconds.

"Are you sick too?", straight to the point...just like his little brother.

"I'm the medic that healed you"

The tall man looked stricken "Please no...", he moaned.

She shrugged gently "The disease had to go some where".

The Uchiha genius buried his face in his hands.


	2. Angels and Insanity

**_Disclaimer:I do not own Naruto. _**

**_Question:Am I the only one that can't stand Karin?...It was bad enough when Sakura and Ino were Sasuke crazy...yuck!_**

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* * *

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_The smoke was everywhere, blown by a hot wind that gusted in no particular direction. She was running frantically, not pausing to take note of the carnage around her. There was only one thing that dominated her mind now, her most precious person._

_Blood soaked up through her shoes. The ground slippery beneath her feet. She had no chakra left to improve her footing, or to speed her search. _

_Her senses were failing her. Her hearing was poor, muted from the roar of the last eighteen hours of battle. No point in calling out, she wouldn't hear the reply. _

_She didn't even try to smell, knowing that she would detect nothing more than smoke and blood._

_Her vision was slipping from her, with her chakra depleted the new eyes could barely function._

_The only thing left to her was the ability to feel the life forces around her. _

_A distant explosion rocked the earth beneath her feet, and she stumbled. Falling flat on her face. A string of curses slipped from her, and she spat out blood that was not her own._

_She grunted and pushed herself up, her battered body trembled with exhaustion. She tried not to contemplate all the injuries she had received. Though she knew from her medical training the count included three shattered ribs, a punctured lung, and a ruptured spleen._

_**Damn it.**_

_Another explosion, closer this time. She didn't completely fall again, but she no longer had the energy to compensate for the lack of stable ground. Instead she dropped to her knees. _

_The sounds of combustion were getting louder and louder. She was starting to feel the shock waves ripple through the air around her. Small debris nicked her limbs and body._

_If she didn't move soon she would be blown to kingdom come. _

_**I** __**would know**__…she thought wryly…__**I helped Deidara make those bombs**__._

_She silently screamed out to their resident explosives expert to stop. __**Please**__. Just long enough for her to find the strength to move._

_Apparently Deidara couldn't hear her._

_The heat from the blasts caressed her. It began as a flicker of warmth, but was steadily gaining heat. _

_For an instant all was quiet, and then, from somewhere high over her head, she heard the battle cry._

"_ART IS A BANG, YEAH!"_

_Her death sentence._

_The waves were blazing hot now, and she could feel her skin burning._

_A part of her, told her to move, just to spare the mad bomber the guilt, seeing as s__he couldn't exactly bring her self to be angry with her him, even if he was about to accidentally kill her. You couldn't see anything in this smoke._

_She closed her eyes and waited for the darkness to come._

* * *

Haruno Sakura woke from her dream in a cold sweat. She momentarily wondered why she wasn't in a million pieces, her eyes flicked around wildly, searching for the danger.

There was none.

She was not on the battlefield, she was in her hotel room.

When they had stopped there in the early evening she had liked the clean white walls, and the pretty white and red blossom patterned bed coverings. The small window had merely meant the light wouldn't wake her too early.

But now...here in the dark...the pleasant little room made her want to scream. She shoved herself into a half sitting position, propping up on one slim forearm. She spared a careless glance up at the clock, it read 3:12 am.

Her stomach churned, the taste of blood and earth lingered upon her lips. She swallowed hard, forcing the rising bile back down.

In her restless sleep her legs had gotten tangled up in crisp white sheets. She kicked them off viciously, letting the wrinkled cotton material fall to the pale wooden floor.

She swung her body, sitting all the way up, so her legs hung over the edge of the bed. The balls of her feet skimmed the cold floor boards.

Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of being trapped washed through her, accompanied by a furious desire for fresh air. Unbidden her hands ached to tear through a wall, and bring her closer to the open sky. The moon peaked down through the tiny window, taunting her.

She closed her eyes and willed her rising sense of claustrophobia to recede. The konoichi drew slow, deep breaths through her mouth.

Silently, she stood, and padded into the little bathroom. Her over sized dark t-shirt and underpants were soaked in sweat, and clung to her form uncomfortably.

She stood before the sink, staring at her reflection in the large mirror placed above it.

Her bright pink hair just barely hung to her shoulders, horrific tangles caused the rose colored strands to stick up, making her look slightly deranged. Her fair skin was shiny with perspiration, she would have to wash that off before it aggravated her pores and caused a rash. Her vibrant green eyes were wide and haunted, deep circles shadowed them. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

She turned on the faucet, taking a cup the hotel had provided her with from the little counter and filling it to the brim with cold water. She raised the glass to her lips and downed the liquid in two big gulps.

The water in her throat felt so good that she leaned over the sink and vigorously splashed her face and neck. The calming affect was immediate. Now in her right mind, she was ferverently glad that she had not acted upon her impulse to knock the wall down. She didn't not need an angry hotel manager demanding monetary compensation for property damages.

Come to think of it, Sakura didn't quite know what to do with herself. She didn't have a prayer of going back to sleep, but she couldn't very well wake her exhausted team. They would never let her hear the end of it. Worse yet, she could just imagine the teasing she would be subject to if they found out it was because she had a silly nightmare.

But it had felt so real, the images weren't what disturbed her, war was part of the shinobi lifestyle. She had known that since her genin days. She didn't agree per-say, but she coped just fine thank you very much.

What frightened Sakura where the emotions. A ghost of the desperation she had experienced was still making her feel uneasy.

Desperation to save..._someone_...A beloved and cherished someone.

A someone her waking mind could not identify. No matter how hard she tried.

She grunted in frustration, giving her reflection a good hard glare before lumbering over to the shower. She still hadn't bothered to turn on any source of light, but that made little difference in her ability to navigate the room. All academy children were taught to adjust their vision to the dark. Most full fledged shinobi only ever turned on the lights out of habit.

She poked her head around the cheap plastic shower curtain and turned the knob to start the hot water.

She stripped off her soiled night clothes and threw them carelessly into the far corner of the room. Remembering the tangles, she also quickly racked her fingers through her hair, smoothing out the larger knots.

Once she was satisfied...sort of...with her hair she pulled the shiny, plastic off to the side and stepped in to the shower. The flow of the hot water was a little strong for her taste, if they ended up spending another night here she would have to ask the manager if he could turn the water pressure down.

She took the little glass bottle of complementary shampoo and began lathering it through her hair. Singing quietly to herself.

The dream had kept her distracted, but now that she was thinking clearly the sadness and embarrassment were creeping up on her.

She found it deeply disturbing that Naruto had seen through her so easily, but that wasn't the worst part.

What made her eyes sting with barely repressed tears was his harsh rejection of her, it was like Sasuke all over again.

_...Sasuke... He attacked the summit...Oh god..._

Tears stung her eyes, and her shoulders shook.

If there was any hope for him before it was gone now, no one ever got away with a stunt like that, reason or no reason. She was sure he must have known that. When they were team seven, Sasuke had known more about the shinobi laws than herself and Naruto combined.

His behaviour was erratic. His plans hair brained. His "sacred mission" could change on a dime.

And as a medic nin she could draw only one conclusion...

...Uchiha Sasuke had lost it...

After all that trauma and loss, somewhere between ruining Naruto and her's lives and being an international terrorist, the boy had gone completely, up the wall crazy. A danger to himself and everyone around him.

Sakura sighed, and her ever sharped mind turned to the information that Kakashi had forbidden Naruto from telling her. She had passed it off as insignificant at the time...but now...come to think of it...why _hadn't _Sasuke just come home. Itachi was dead and his mission was, in theory, over.

Perhaps Sasuke could not let his hatred go, even though his brother was gone. It would make complete sense if he had developed some sort of phsycological attachment to vengeance. The last Uchiha must not know another way of existing, her ex-teammate _needed_ something to hate.

She started in on her body, picking up the bar of soap and scrubbing furiously.

Yet again her she felt anger toward the elder of the siblings. His face flashed through her mind, fair skin, sharp clear features, huge red eyes, dark circles that almost hurt to look at, hair a couple of shades lighter than his younger brothers.

It turned her stomach to think it, but he had been so..._pretty_. That was part of what made him, and the Uchiha clan as a whole, dangerous. Their appearances were deceptive, they didn't look like killing machines,they looked like lost angels.

She snorted, _yes, that described the two brothers perfectly._

Pretty, sparkly, royally fucked-up, lost angels.

When she was satisfied that every drop of sweat had been scrubbed off she swirled the knob to turn off the water. The piping complied with a metallic groan. She stepped out of the shower, sloshing naked across the wooden floor to the little closet were the towels were kept. Her skin broke out in goosebumps and she shivered.

Sakura flung the little door open and snatched up the biggest towel she could find. It was quickly wrapped around her person.

* * *

Uchiha Madara was sulking. Holed up in his current hide out, brooding like a foolish teenager.

He was sitting in one of the common rooms, this one had a wooden floor, several moth eaten couches and a TV. His tall body was folded into a bloody red sofa, his knees tucked up to his chest. His orange mask lay discarded on the decrepit coffee table, his unruly, shoulder length hair shadowed the upper half of his face.

He was currently resisting the urge to break something to ease his frustration.

His plan had gone off without a hitch, _save for one thing_...

He had followed the boy, watching him meet his comrades. Seeing the conversation he had held with the reining greatest medic in the world. Her attempts to deceive the boy, and he had felt absolute delight as he started in on Itachi's story...only to be stopped by Kakashi.

He sighed heavily...

...The only reason he had told that loud mouthed jinchuriki the truth was because he was sure the boy would spread the news far and wide no matter what...

Instead he had listened to that stupid Jonin and kept his mouth shut like a good little brat.

_Pathetic._

His brilliant mind overturned each interaction between the ninja, processing very carefully.

That was when an idea struck him...the girl...he smirked.

Yes the pink haired teenager could be useful. If she was willing to spend the rest of her life lying to save one person imagine what she would do to bring justice to his cause, if only he could persuade her.

_What else did he know about her?..._

A medic, she was compassionate and liked to help others. Intelligent, she had to be smart if she had defeated Sasori. Determined, she had no Kekei Genkai, no truly miraculous talents, yet she had risen to become a noteworthy ninja.

She could become another Itachi, she had the right personality. The potential was definatley there.

He slipped into the big, yet sparsely furnished room he called his to the closet. Madara carelessly flung open the dark wooden door. His sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on what he was looking for.

The Bingo Book.

"H"..."H" he murmured quietly to himself...rapidly flicking through pages...He passed the Hatake family..."almost"...

There...Haruno Sakura, the page read,

_**Name:Haruno Sakura, Rank:Chunin, Affiliation:Konohagakure no Sato**_

_Haruno Sakura is the only known shinobi hailing from the small Haruno clan. They have no kekei genkai, although it must be noted that Sakura has excellent chakra control and a photographic memory. Sakura graduated from the academy upon her first attempt, and received the second best marks in her year. She was then assigned a standard three man cell, consisting of Uzumaki Naruto**(Uzumaki Naruto Page 761),**Uchiha Sasuke**(Uchiha Sasuke Page 754),**and Hatake Kakashi**(Hatake Kakashi Page 233)**who led the cell. Sakura learned under Kakashi for approximately eight months, during this time period her skills were alarmingly underdeveloped, in spite of the excellent marks she received on the genin exam, and she seemed to find her team mate Sasuke quite distracting. After her teamates went their separate ways Sakura sought the legendary Sanin Lady Tsunade**(Lady Senju Tsunade Page 602)**to train her in the healing arts. Sakura took to this training very well, and her previously poor ability improved rapidly. Since then she has participated in some missions that should be far beyond the ability of a chunin. Such as the rescue of the Godaime Kazekage**(Subaku Gaara Page 692)**from the notorious criminal organization, Akatsuki**(Akatsuki Page 813)** ._

Madara threw the book aside, giving it a casual toss over his shoulder. There was another half page written on her, but he already had all the information he needed.

It was about time he brought Sasuke back anyway.

* * *

**_Love it?...Hate it?...Please let me know..._**

**_Author's note:I have seen multiple spellings of some of the words that are from the world of Naruto, please tell me if you know what is considered to be the correct spelling._**


	3. The Land of the Living

_Birds sang brightly, sunlight filtered down through the window. He sighed contently and rolled over, snuggling deeper under the covers. The little eight year old could barely believe it was his very first day at the academy. There were only a few things that could make this get better._

_And one of those things knocked gently on his bedroom door. His quiet, lilting voice came a moment later._

_"Sasuke?...You awake?..."_

_He bounded out of bed, pj's and all, flew across the room and flung the door open. He threw his arms around Itachi's waist._

_"Hai Aniki"_

_A little chuckle from the back of the tall, slim teenagers throat was the response. Itachi's voice had recently gotten much lower wich amused the young boy to no end._

_His brother crouched down to be on eye level. Another inside joke, Sasuke insisted he was getting bigger everyday, and soon he would wake one morning and be taller. He straightened his back and stood on his tippy toes._

_Itachi had to press his knuckles to his mouth for a moment to stifle a laugh._

_"Sasuke" he started trying to sound serious"Itachi" he replied dropping his voice as low as it would go and matched his brother's expression._

_He was thrilled to see the amused smile that broke across his aniki's face._

_It was gone in a few seconds though, as Itachi countinued,"Father had to leave early this morning for a mission, he sends his apologies."_

_"oh" Sasuke's heart sank. His father was supposed to take him to school. He hoped and prayed that he hadn't changed his mind. His stomach twisted uncomfortably._

_His brother fixed everything with one sentence._

_"I'll be taking you instead", Sasuke was thrilled, Itachi was way more fun than his father any day of the week. He let him get away with more._

_When his brother had time they went to the village, visited the little shops, and partook in the forbidden pleasure that was junk food. Itachi seemed to like buying him gifts, though he had to be careful that the presents never fell into the category of "pointless distraction" in their father's eyes._

_As a result Sasuke owned alot of intricatley patterned kunai and shuriken, along with several carrying pouches that were garunteed never to break._

_However, he did posses exactly one stuffed animal. A rather large dog, fluffy tail and all. Itachi had gotten that for him also, a few months back. He had seen one of the other children playing with a puppy and had immediatley decided he wanted one._

_The little white fluff ball was yapping joyously and wagging it's tail as it's owner, another boy about his age, tossed a stick for it._

_"Itachi-kun!" he said, tugging on the older boy's arm impaitiently. Itachi looked down at him,"Itachi, can I get one of those?" He pointed to the little white puppy._

_Itachi's face darkened for a moment before he forced it into a smile and replied "I will discuss it with father. Shinobi dogs are valuable companions"_

_Sasuke's heart soared and he beamed up at Itachi._

_As it turned out Uchiha Fugaku deemed Sasuke "unfit to master a dog when he himself seems incapable of mastering ninjutsu"._

_He hadn't caught the specifics after that, just alot of sharp toned words that passed between Itachi and his father that ended with Itachi taking of for a walk and not returning for nearly two days. During his brother's abscence Sasuke was subject to many scathing glares from his father, who obviously blamed him for his beloved first son's dissapearance._

_When Itachi finally did return he wore the triumphant little smile that always told Sasuke that whatever his brother had done was going to get him in **alot** of trouble._

_Indeed it did. The next time Itachi returned from a mission he was carying a huge stuffed dog. Even Sasuke's eight year old mind realized it must have been custom made, because it looked exactly like the Akita puppy that they had seen with the little boy._

_Sasuke's mother lead her second son to his room to find a suitable place for the new dog. She cooed over the thing, fussed with the little leather collar. But Mikoto couldn't stop the sound of his father's anger from coming through the walls._

_He didn't see Itachi for a week afterward._

_

* * *

_Uchiha Sasuke was the second to wake with a start that morning. The bitter sweet child hood memory still playing behind the iridescent crimson of his Sharingan eyes.

He groaned and stretched. A simple, perfectly human thing to do but he had long since kicked the habit of doing such things in front of other people. Primarily because he had enough of a hard time not drawing attention to himself, and was eternally made a spectacle of by at least one woman in the immediate vicinity. _God forbid _he do something like shove his bangs out of his eyes in public.

He had at one time considered changing his name and going to some remote corner of the globe to bide his time until the world had forgotten him and his condemed bloodline. He could cast off the title last Uchiha, goodbye and good riddance.

There had been one flaw in the plan, Itachi. The wildly infamous older boy was not hiding. Quite the contrary he was highly active, walking, talking, trying to bring about the end of the civilized world. Or so Sasuke had thought.

He would meet his brother again soon, Sasuke was not stupid enough to believe he would survive his fight with Naruto. The demon container turned hero was a level all his own.

He was not afraid to die, his existence revolved around death. He was far more comfortable with the concept of dying than that abstract unatainable state of living.

He was anxious, all too ready to meet Itachi again. A thousand question to ask his brother were burned into the flawless memory the genes of the Uchiha clan had blessed him with.

Sasuke rose from the warmth of the blanket, his body gave a single tremor at the cold and he made a nearly imperceptible jerk backward. At once his years of programming bubbled to the forefront and his clear featured face twisted into a disgusted sneer.

Irked he padded out of his room and down the bamboo floored hallway. Old fashioned candles against the white washed walls cast shadows that twisted, jumped and disintegrated. He could not repress the impulse to track each individual movement, and by the time he reached the tarnished decorative shoji screens that made up the door to the outside a migraine thrummed against his temples. The Akatsuki's mountain safe house sat adjacent to a hot spring, as a result no one had deemed it necessary to install a shower. Now the younger Uchiha traipsed barefoot across the rock formation , stripping off a pair of loose, dark slacks, his sole article of clothing, as he went.

Naked for all the world to see and too absorbed in thought to care, he slid with a minute sploosh into the hot water. At 130 degrees Fahrenheit the hot spring fell just outside the so called "safe" temperature range. The stinging sensation that turned his skin red was perversely gratifying, and he sighed gently, content to be human enough to feel something so basic.

At the age of eighteen he was a dead man walking and he knew that he had very little life to reminisce. As a young child he was the unremarkable shadow of his prodigy brother. His adolescence he spent grouped nicely into the categories of "trauma victim", "orphan", and "brilliant student". Now barely squeaking into the group "adult" he was powerful, feared, hated, a liar, a traitor, a murderer,, to many a certifiable nutcase, a virgin with no aspirations for a family, and living on borrowed time.

He closed his eyes and let himself sink to the bottom of the pool, wondering if he stayed still if he could just will himself to slip away quietly.

* * *

_**A/N: I hate it when authors harass their audience for reviews at the end of each chapter but I really do need my readers to tell me if they like my portrayal of Sasuke before I proceed onto the next chapter, which primarily concerns Itachi, who is a far more complex character.**_


	4. Premonition

**I finally got the fourth chapter done, this should get the plot moving faster.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, I occasionally wish I did.**

* * *

Something was slowly but surely working through his overtaxed system, seeping through his veins. He gave pause, he should not have veins for anything to course through. He should not be feeling the shifting temperatures around him or the heaviness of eyelids he knew he needed to lift so he could take in his surroundings.

He should not exist anymore.

_Should not have existed in the first place. _

Wherever he was, it was certainly not heaven. If he was in hell he was getting off remarkably easy. Purgatory perhaps? That sounded viable.

He wondered groggily why he was the only one there. Was he in some sort of solitary confinement? He was alright with being alone, if he was cut off from other people then he couldn't hurt anyone.

With a sense of grim satisfaction he slipped back out of conciousness

* * *

Images flickered beneath his closed eyelids.

Initially they were blurry and dark.

_He was so tired._

But he willed them into focus anyway.

_He saw a woman, tall, slender, lovely. Her long pink hair splayed behind her as she lay back on silky midnight pillows. Moonlight streamed in from an unseen opening and illuminated her face and body. Limbs of delicate proportioning and sinewy strength, cocooned in smooth ivory skin glowed faintly in the cold white light. An inky black tattoo of intricate beauty swirled and pulsed across it's flawless white background, extending across her entire left side. Her torso was swathed in a black satin sheet but it did not disguise the noticeable perfection of her form. His vision intently traced her sharp collarbones, her narrow shoulders, the prominent, supple curve of her breasts. Her ribcage expanded and contracted with every breath she drew and threw into stark relief the flatness of her stomach, the narrowness of her waist. Her hip bones stood out slightly from her lower abdomen and emphasized the slim, blatantly feminine curvature of her hips. From beneath the dark fabric he could see the graceful expanse of her long, lean legs. A pang of desire coiled itself into his abdomen and stayed there._

_He tore his eyes away from her body, embarrassed that he had been crudely ogling the woman. She was so very beautiful that he could not bare to look away so he settled on exploring her face. It was heart shaped, with a sharp jawline. Her features were that of a terrible sort of beauty. Unearthly perfect, but there was something faintly cruel about the lines of her otherwise angelic face. She had pale but generously full lips, a small, straight nose, high cheek bones, and huge, brilliantly emerald eyes. Alarm spiked through him. It was quite obvious that she was a konoichi , but she didn't posses eyes befitting a woman trained in manipulation or seduction. Those greener than green orbs were wildly expressive, ferral even. Betraying sadness in her otherwise neutral counttenance as she gazed into the distance._

_As if on cue, as the woman knew he was there, she turned her head toward him. All at once she reached for him with an elegant hand, her face transforming into a brilliant smile as they locked eyes. She spoke a single word. Carressed it with a voice of satin and razors, "Itachi". He was abruptly overcome by a singular, tremendously powerful desire to keep that seraphic expression on her face. He wanted her to be happy so badly it was frightening. He would die, fight, **kill** so long as it meant she would look upon him with that same incandescent joy she was now. He trembled, frightened by the implications of his own overwhelming emotions for the unknown woman._

_The picture faded at that moment, breaking whatever spell he had fallen under. However the raw, unadulterated longing remained and left him feeling hollow._

_Before he could fully contemplate what he had just experienced a new picture laid itself out before him. Two men, with their arms slung over each other's shoulders, laughing. His heart leapt into his throat, one man was himself, the other, was Sasuke. He couldn't help but envy the Itachi in front of him as he enjoyed a carefree moment with the brother who had obviously become his closest friend. His ever perceptive mind detected no tension between the two of the brothers before him, the past was entirely forgiven. Water under the bridge, as the saying went. What he had always wanted. What he had sacrificed to save Konoha._

_He also could not help but notice that both of them were every bit as flawless and tattooed as the beautiful konoichi. It felt strange, seeing himself like that, powerful, vital, his every imperfection taken away. However beauty was not why he wished so much to be one and the same with the predator, cruel eyed version of himself in the image. Even more, he wanted for his brother to unite with the man that smiled alongside him. This Sasuke radiated an inner peace that had not been present in him for years. The two possesed such a sense of belonging together, like appendages of the same organism. He had no doubt that had the woman been in the picture she would have fit in seamlessly with them as well._

_The scene changed again and he saw a pair of beautiful children. A tall, thin little boy of perhaps ten, his arms were gently wrapped around a young girl of the same age. **Twins**, his mind registered. They were not yet strong but their umarred skin flashed with that same tattoo. They were too graceful, too confident, their eyes too knowing to be normal children._

_They were very similar in appearance, the dominant genes of his clan readily apparent. They were both quite vertically apt for their age, both skeletons constructed with the elongated, lean musculature of long distance runners. Their hair was shiny, straight, and dark. The girl's was smooth and cut in a sweeping way to her jawline, her brother's was wildly messy and so long it skimmed the bottom of his shoulder blades. They were fair complected and he noticed they had both inherited a faint shadowing under their eyes from him._

_They weren't entirely identical though. The male's face favored the woman more, he had a pointier jawline and softer cheek bones. His sister in contrast had Itachi's own facial shape, a narrowed square jaw, sharp, subtle. The boy had wider eyes, that were fairly normally proportioned, hers were almost exact replicas of his own. From the boy emanated an aura like the sun, warm, bright, fiery, his son flashed a cheeky impudent smile that showed off his sharp canine teeth. His daughter seemed a little more quiet and thoughtful, she gave him a gentle smile. He did not think they could see him but Itachi beamed back despite himself._

_He **knew**, could **feel**, that beyond any doubt that they were his and it that moment he came to comprehend the parent-child connection that everyone seemed to hold in such reverence . A fierce instinct pulsed through him, screaming to protect them at any cost. He would obey that impulse gladly. Something warm slipped through him as he lingered upon that last vision. Only to vanish when it finally did fade out._

_A family..._

_A beautiful wife who obviously cared for him..._

_Reconciliation with the brother he loved so much..._

_The two most wonderful children he had ever seen..._

_Everything he knew he could never have..._

_Right there before him... Breaking his heart..._

He could not stop the tears, not this time, and he allowed himself a single, silent sob. This was beyond sacrifice, this was the utmost cruelty fate possessed. For his sins he was not only taunted with vague concepts, but tormented with the knowledge o_f exactly_ what could have been. No matter how much he knew he deserved punishment, he could not slip back behind those numbing walls of acceptance and resignation.

Whatever happened to death being blissful oblivion? Didn't that apply to him? Hadn't he at least earned the right to be nothing?

He was slowly being drawn back into reality and as much as he fought it. his senses were becoming progressively clearer.

He forced his slate colored eyes to open and found himself no better off, wherever he was utterly lacked any source of light. At a loss for what to do he tried to reach out, and feel for something that might clue him in as to his location. His arm, however, had other ideas, and stayed fixedly at his side. He tried for the other arm…again, nothing. With a growing sense of dread he tested the rest of his body and found it equally uncooperative The only functions he had retained were control of his facial and neck muscles. Most of his autonomic systems seemed to be in working order, he could feel his lungs expanding and contracting, he was blinking. However his _heart_…he would have shuddered if he had control of the necessary muscles…lay dead and silent in his chest.

That was, what? …Impossible?…Disturbing?…Both? That and more. He fought back another shameful bout of self pity and instead smirked humorlessly. He just couldn't seem to get a break, could he? Whatever powers that be wouldn't even let him be _dead _without having some extraordinary circumstance complicate his situation.

In that moment, he was overcome by a wave of distress so powerful that for the first time in nearly eight years, Uchiha Itachi completely lost his composure. He furiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip to muffle the sound and screamed as loud as he could. His eyes clamped shut tightly again and his dry throat cracked open with a grotesque rip. Blood seeped down into his esophagus but he was beyond caring.

It occurred to him then, as he lay there, shrieking like some kind of wounded animal, that he still had no idea what the situation was, though he would be ready to bet every dollar left to his name it was not going to be pleasant. His current state was unsettlingly similar to Orohimaru's reanimation technique. He wondered vaguely if the Snake-man had been the one to revive him. Even if he had, what could he possibly want with someone like himself. Orochimaru was a social darwinist, through and through. No matter the reputation he had earned himself, by the time he had last seen the sanin he had been weak and cripplingly ill. Unless he had been given an entirely new body(and judging by the lack of pain in his chest that was a distinct possibility) he wouldn't have been worth the time and effort that a technique such as that required.

The much larger problem with that line of thought was that he had personally seen to it that the ex-Otokage would not be in any state to wreak havoc ever again. Unless something had gone horribly wrong the sanin should have been trapped in a sort of alternate reality with no viable means of escape. Although, he mused, he supposed his chakra may have been so weakened at that point that susanoo could have lost quite a bit of it's effectiveness.

He wracked his brain for possibilities, drawing on his frighteningly long list of enemies.

Nagato?...No, he'd seen people revived by him before, that technique was a perfect and complete restoration to life. Not this abominable half-and-half state...and besides, Pein was powerful but lacked control, he doubted he could stop the jutsu halfway even if he wanted to. That also eliminated Konan who followed her partner without question.

Madara?...Doubtful, if Madara possessed the power to stop others from dying he would have used it long before now...his sensei was not a compassionate man but he admired the unique and the gifted almost as much as he loved his bloodline. He had once told Itachi that he was the embodiment of both and therefore he was his greatest masterpiece. When he had been fifteen they had actually spent a year traveling, trying to find someone who could break death's grip on him, needless to say that their attempts had all ended in failure.

To his displeasure the memory of his sixteenth birthday wormed it's way to the surface, _he remembered being strapped down to a gurney, because according to one of the nurses some of the chemicals they were using amplified violent tendencies (he had realized then that the doctors must have recognized him). He felt the cold metal bindings digging into his skin even now, as if they were still real. He recalled laying there in nothing but one of the hospital gowns trying not to shiver as the medics wired IV drips all along his arms and the needle they had pressed into his spinal column, at the base of his neck. It two minutes flat he was so sedated he could barely summon the will to breathe, it felt like an iron weight was pressing down onto his chest and he realized faintly that it should have been pain, he just couldn't feel it. He had distantly heard them telling Madara that they were going to try and use a rare biological poison to try and force his immune system into a more active state._

_For eight long, torturous hours the toxin ran rampant through his body. At first it had seemed like nothing, perhaps a small amount of nausea, he dealt with worse every day. He'd lay there in quiet relief for all of about five minutes. Suddenly his body had jerked independent of his will, pain seared up his spine and his back had arched so forcefully that his skull slammed into the steel operating table. He blinked, dazed, his vision flickering. More agonizing tremors were starting to wrack their way through him. They were everywhere, in his head, in his chest in his limbs. He began truly thrashing then, in involuntary recoil from the pain. The metal holding him down sliced into his skin, his blood wasn't clotting properly and the crimson trailed burning streams down the inside of his forearms. He ceased his movement momentarily, watching in slow, sick fascination as his life force stained his skin. His blood, he hated his blood, if it weren't for that condemned, too watery fluid pouring out all over the alabaster sheets we would not be in this mess. He would not be here now desperate to fall back into eternity but dreading death as well, his whole body burning on the freezing cold metal platform. The cuts had become points of relief, and so as he focused on them an idea struck him. It was horrible, selfish, phsycotic, a part of his conciousness screamed at him to stop, but he could not for the life of him remember why he was putting himself through this._

_He wrenched his neck to the side and sank his teeth into his own shoulder, being quite flexible he had no trouble stretching enough to do so. The reaction was immediate and he felt the rush of thin, coppery substance fill his mouth. He inhaled slowly through his nose a couple of times and then threw his head in the other direction and repeated the process. The open wounds were starting to sting in earnest, white hot shocks of pain pulsed from the nerves of his torn skin. A small pool of blood was beginning to collect beneath him. The doctor, who had been attending to his other patients and had left a nurse in charge walked in to check on him right then, the man stared in wide eyed horror for a few moments, taking in the gory scene. Itachi stared right back, burgundy streaks covering his lips and chin, hospital garb stained vermillion, scarlet pouring from his upper body. Then the doctor rounded on the nurses, practically screaming for someone to get more sedatives and some bandages. He wanted to open his mouth and tell the medics that they were wasting their time on him and that they should just let him bleed to death but the only sound he could produce was a barely audible groan. The last thing he saw before blacking out was an enormous nurse holding an equally enormous syringe and telling him everything would be alright._

_When he awoke it was to the sound of murmuring voices and he cracked a single eye open a fraction of a centimeter to see the source of the sound._

_I was full dark now and his appointment had begun at six, making it a little after two in the morning. He'd been sixteen for over a day._

_The voices belonged to Madara, who was dressed in civilian clothes and mask-less, his un-aged face, icy pale in the moonlight, was easily visible. He was conversing with the doctor who he noticed was fidgeting uncomfortably._

_The doctor had nodded solemnly and lowered his voice to convey his diagnosis to his sensei "This is tuberculosis sure as we're standing here", he began..._

_Itachi had mentally checked out at that point, barely repressing a disappointed sigh, he'd heard it all before. He knew what would happen, the skinny middle aged man would express his greatest sympathies to Madara before telling him that beyond a shadow of a doubt his (son or nephew or whatever role the older Uchiha took a fancy to, because they bore far too much resemblance for anyone to miss) was going to die. That he had a mutated form of consumption, the likes of which he had never seen, that was viciously aggressive and untreatable. Then he would explain how eventually he would either slowly suffocate or suffer heart failure and give him at best three years and at worst six months. All of course depending upon how well he took care of himself, the less emotional and physical strain the better. The first time a doctor had told him that Itachi had momentarily forgotten himself and let out a single humorless bark of laughter to which the old man had shot him a markedly disturbed look in response. He had been twelve then_.

Itachi forced the recollection as far back into his mind as it would go and focused instead on ticking off possibilities.

After all, counting all of the people who hated him was going to take a while...

Precisely one hundred-seven possible culprits later he had exhausted his mental bingo book completely, but he was beginning to form a rough idea of who might want him alive. He remembered now a particularly unpleasant boy who he recalled had been sighted traveling with Orochimaru at least two dozen times in the last six years. As rumor had it the shinobi was quite proficient in medical techniques, some even fabled him to surpass both the Godaime Hokage in talent.

It occured to him then, that there was one final possibility, the girl from the Hidden Leaf Village, the one who had outwitted (and ultimatley killed) Sasori. He'd seen her once, though his vision had been so poor by then all he had been able to make out was a brightly colored blob. It had not been directly either, but through the eyes of the corpse he had possesed and used to his biding. However highly unethical such abuse of it was, the sharingan had some very practical uses.

It was not as if he were the first Uchiha to use his gifts off the battlefeild either, the very idea of possessing another without the use tsukoyomi was hardly an original one. In fact that particular stroke of inspiration had come to him in the form of a childhood memory, which was incidentally also the memory of his only brush with teenage hormones. _One of those rare moments that he had not been training, or on a mission, or writing a report, he had met up with Shisui (Sasuke in tow of course), in the town center . All had been going quite nicely, Shisui had bought himself a new forehead protector. An exceptionally ostentatious one, with a shiny gold design along the border of the leaf village symbol that continued out over the midnight blue fabric. His cousin had always been a bit more vain than himself or Sasuke but in all fairness without the responsibilities associated with being in the head family he had time for such things._

_Next they had taken Sasuke to the sweets stand, or rather Itachi took him and Shisui had casually propped himself against one of the legs of the stall and kept look out for any other clan members. Ten minutes and one false alarm that resulted in some frantic scrambling, and perhaps the sloppiest genjutsu he had ever cast, later he emerged from the tented stand, loyal little Sasuke close behind as always. He shot his outouto a grin and the younger boy enthusiastically responded in kind. Both of their arms were laden with as many varieties of sweets as they could carry and perhaps a little more seeing as Sasuke almost immediately handed off a few of his treasures to one very amused Shisui._

_They had chatted away idly as they treked down the sunsoaked street toward Itachi's favorite book store, discussing authors (or in Sasuke's case pictures versus no pictures), at one point Shisui commented on the merits of Jiryia's work and Itachi being natrually curious had made an inquiry as to the nature of sannin's writing. His cousin had snickered at him and beckoned him closer with a wagling finger, interest piqued he had complied immediatley. The older boy had stuck his mouth right up to his ear and very, very quietly he had whispered his response. His thirteen year old self had jerked back as if burned, shooting Shisui an affronted look, blood rushed to his face and he knew a blistering, crimson blush was clearly visible against his skin._

_Even Sasuke, who was admittedly less than observant a significant part of the time,had immediatley tugged on his hand "Aniki, what's wrong?". He forced his demeanor into some semblance of composure and managed to force out "Nothing. Why do you ask?", with a calm he did not feel._

_The little boy had considered him, head tilted to the side, the picture of contemplation, before saying "Nii-san, your face turned as red as your eyes"._

_Itachi blinked hard, mildly embarrassed, he had not even realized that he had activated his sharingan. Now that someone had brought it up he was beginning to take notice of the burning sensation that was ghosting faintly through the blood vessels in his sclera._

_Infinitely worse, were the decidedly r-rated images burning behind his eyes and for the first time in his life Itachi cursed his photographic memory. Though in retrospect perhaps his sense of timing was more to blame for if he had possessed a more acute intuition he may have avoided accidentally walking in on his cousin viewing a very mature film three months ago. The obviously hormonal older boy had begged him not to tell anyone and with a disapproving shake of his head he had agreed. He had read enough about the human body to know that a fifteen year old male's interest in such things, while deeply disturbing on an interpersonal level, was hardly a punishable offense. Unfortunately the Uchiha clan elders were unlikely to view it in a similar manner, and so after making Shisui swear to warn him in the future (Honestly! If he had been any later he could very well have seen far more of his cousin than he ever wanted to. To that, the shameless Shisui had actually turned bright pink),he had pushed all thoughts of anything remotely sexual out of his head and encouraged the older boy to do the same._

_Now however, as he glided quietly between endless isles of books, the more he tried to force the pictures from his mind the clearer they became. Not one to be beaten by something as simple as a few proteins in his blood stream, he determinedly stuck his nose into a small paperback on philosophy. Ignoring the bright display of flamboyant orange books by the register when he made his way to the counter to pay for the nine novels he simply could not live without. Itachi was an avid reader, with good reason. The most obvious being that written material was one of the best ways to learn, as he so loved to do. The other being that immersing himself in a story served as an escape from his own reality. Through his mental adventures he had learned so many useless facts that Shisui had taken to referring any and all non personal question to him. The older boy had also affectionatley dubbed him "encyclopedia", evidently a human named Itachi was not enough of an oddity by itself._

_As he slunk quietly out of the relative darkness of the book store, his cousin had wiggled his eye brows at him "Buy anything interesting?", he had quipped. Leave it to Shisui to milk the stupid fiasco for all it was worth._

_Sasuke on the other hand had a very pleasant reaction, he had bobbed excitedly on his heels and made an inquiry as to weather or not Itachi had picked up any stories,._

_"Aniki?", a pregnant pause._

_"Hai", his own version of enthusiasm. A small smile that crept into his tone._

_"Any new movies?", please say yes. A sincere, unspoken wish only a child could make._

_"Nani?", Shisui had looked up surprised and...a little suspicious._

_If Itachi had been anyone other than himself he would have clapped his hand to his forehead. "He means story books" he deadpanned, a hint of exasperation leaking into his voice._

_"But he said-", his cousin protested._

_He really did roll his eyes that time, the older boy had a troublesome flare for the dramatic. "I've been using genjutsu to show him what I'm reading ...in order to help him sleep, the nightmares have been getting worse lately...", he trailed off._

_"Aah" the fifteen year old nodded in understanding_.

A sudden shuffling jerked him out of his reminiscing, his bloodline limit flickering to life. He caught an oily, sickeningly soft voice drifting through the walls that enclosed him. In immediate succession came a raspy baritone that he recognized as none other than Madara. He noted that his old teacher sounded more than a little distressed.

In fact they seemed to be engaged in some kind of argument. He was able to catch snippets of the conversation as they slowly drew nearer.

..."Can't believe you used him"..

..."Why...care Madara?...sentimental?"...

..."principal of the god damn thi-...should have asked me!"...

..."Enough!...don't know...my plan"...

A sound like a guillotine hitting a cinder block resonated painfully against his ear drums, they were very close to Itachi's little prison now. So close he could hear his ancestor's harsh breathing.

" I'd won both of the first great shinobi conflicts by the time your parents were ever born, impudent little bastard, _do not_ lecture me about the tactics of war" Madara snarled.

The younger of the two Uchiha wondered what could have riled the older so much. For a moment he almost pitied his captor, Uchiha Madara was not a man to make an enemy of. He spared the supposed plan little thought for the time being, speculating that he would be filled in quite soon and resolving to discover the answers for himself if he was not.

The moment of contemplation passed swiftly and he waited on bated breath as he felt chakra surge into the walls around him, clearly revealing the exact size and shape of the holding cell.

There came a noise distinctly similar to nails being wrenched from wood and then abruptly sunlight pierced in to his eyes, forcing the pupil to contract painfully. He squinted but kept his visage otherwise composed.

The first thing he did was confirm the identity of the other man, who was indeed one of Orochimaru's apprentices. _Yakushi Kabuto_, his memory supplied. He was smiling at him with such a forced sweetness that it actually turned his stomach a little.

In the next moment he regained full control of his body and he pitched forward, unsteady on his own feet. He never hit the ground though because suddenly a large hand shot out and caught him by the shoulder, the contact made him want to jerk away and run the opposite direction and he consciously fought back a shudder. Perhaps it was the unnatural speed, or may have just been that there should not have been _that_ much strength in any single hand, particularly not such a bony one.

Visceral reaction aside he was grateful that his old sensei hadn't let him fall on his face and he righted himself calmly and nodded to Uchiha Madara in thanks. Despite the fact that the man had tried at least twice to wipe Konoha off the face of the map he was glad for a familiar presence. In fact, compared to the snake sanin look alike, the wild looking immortal seemed downright benign at the moment.

Perhaps it was the truest indicator of the foreboding, heavy on his consciousness, laden in the air, that he found_ Madara's _presence_ comforting_ of all things_._

Itachi did not swear, his mother had caught him at it once as a six year old and put the fear of the gods in him. Years later when that particular concern had been...alleviated... his linguistic patterns had been such a powerful habit he had never felt the urge to do so.

Perhaps that is why both men shot him disbelieving looks when a string of the worst curses he knew slipped past his lips.

Kabuto actually snickered, Itachi bristled and let the center of his three tomo-ed eyes merge into a single pin wheel. He glared at the shorter man pointedly, inwardly hoping to procure enough respect from him to stave off any conflict unless of course it became absolutely necessary.

It didn't work. He didn't know if the boy was overly confident or just plain stupid but he actually had opposite the desired reaction and seemed to take his displaying of his bloodline limit as a challenge. He tipped his abnormally pointy chin up at him and stepped closer, invading not only Itachi's personal space but the arm's-length-away Madara's as well.

For a moment his thin upper lip curled and Kabuto looked as though he might speak but in the next second he had turned on his heel and strode forward. For the first time Itachi bothered to look around and noticed that they were in some sort of forest, the trees were tall and heavy with foliage and the air was oppressively still under the emerald canopy. Beneath his sandaled feet the earth was moist and overgrown with moss.

From beside him, the elder Uchiha called out to his unlikely ally, "Kid" he barked at the white haired male's retreating back.

Kabuto paused and turned around, "Yes" he replied, lingering longer upon the final consonant than was considered normal.

"You need to brief him on the nature of our mission", the immortal replied, gesturing toward him, "Try anything and I will know", he gave him a hard look through mangekyou eyes.

The medic nodded, suddenly submissive, yet in such an obviously false way that it made the Uchiha elder remark on how fortune Kabuto was that he was useful. "Of course", the smaller light haired man replied smoothly as he beckoned Itachi who resignedly followed him through the trees.

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**Please review, I hate to be a broken record but it really does inspire me and help me improve. I hope you enjoyed it!**


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